The Lord of Imladris has a Margarita
by The Potions Mistress
Summary: Elrond is stressed, Figwit is anxious, Glorfindel is stupid, and the Lord of Rivendell has a margarita. Sort of. Legolas has entered the story, and he's not having fun. ~FINISHED~
1. ch 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Elrond, Glorfindel, or even Figwit. They all belong to JRR Tolkien.  
  
Who is f&*k is Figwit you ask? There is the one elf in the LOTR movie that sits next to Aragorn, that the random and sudden fans of him have named Figwit. This little fellow seems to have quite an online following. I don't know anything about his personality or background, so I made up some stuff. He's kinda annoying so consider this an apology to all Figwit lovers.  
  
THE LORD OF IMALDRIS HAS A MARGARITA.  
  
Elrond slammed the door to his chamber and collapsed in his fireside chair. Talk about a bad week: infected hobbits, evil rings of power, an all day council meeting in which everyone and their mother stood up to bicker for 20 minutes with everyone else, and now: he had a splitting migraine. He massaged his temples with his hand and stared into the fire. He had a sudden strong desire to jump into it, not that it would do any good anyway- just give him some severe burns and fill the room with the putrid smell of burning elf-hair. It was times like these that he wondered why he had chosen to be counted among elves instead of men. At least if he were human he would be long dead by now.  
  
"I need a break," he muttered, and, sighing, leaned his head against the back of his chair. His eyes closed and he was just drifting off into a nice dream when the door crashed open.  
  
He sat bolt upright in his chair and glared at the elf who had just burst into his room. He was very young, with long thick brown hair tied back in the traditional elvish fashion. His pointy nose matched his ears perfectly and his eyes were as big as saucers. "Oh Lord Elrond," he squeaked, "I hope I have not awoken or interrupted you."  
  
"You've done both, Figwit." He sighed and then seeing the horrified look on the young elf's face added, "But no matter. What do you want?"  
  
"Your Lordship," Figwit continued, nervously pacing the area before the elf lord and blinking his eyes. "I hope this does not anger you or cause you distress. I do not mean to disturb you. I have come here merely to thank you."  
  
The elf lord's grey eyes pierced Figwit's skull. "For what?" He deadpanned.  
  
"Oh," Figwit cried, "for inviting me to the council today. I felt very honored to be part of such and important decision like what to do with the One Ring because I am very young, sir, and a lot of the older elves do not take me seriously…"  
  
Elrond groaned and put his head in his hands. All he wanted was some sleep and a break from this topic.  
  
"…and I must say, sir, that your comments were exceptionally enlightening to me, my being so inexperienced and humble, your excellency."  
  
The voice stopped suddenly. "My lord," Figwit continued, "is… something wrong?"  
  
"Not a thing, child," Elrond lamented. "I'm just… rather tired, that's all. And… I seem to have quite a splitting headache."  
  
"Oh your Excellency!" Elrond winced as Figwit's voice entered octaves that most elf-maidens couldn't hit. "I HAVE been disturbing you! Oh my severest and sincerest apologies, my lord. You have no idea how it pains me to see you distressed. Please, oh please, sir, if there's anything I can do."  
  
"There's nothing, Figwit, just be on your way," Elrond said curtly.  
  
"No, no, sir, really. I am forever your servant. Please shall I tuck you into your bed? Fluff your pillow? Run you a nice hot bath, sir? How about a massage?"  
  
"No, Figwit, I'm really quite all right," Elrond said through gritted teeth.  
  
"Oh nonsense, Master Elrond," replied Figwit. "I know what I shall do. I will give your hair a nice brushing and re-braid it for you."  
  
"No, Figwit, that's really not necessary," Elrond protested.  
  
"Oh it's my pleasure, sir, really." Figwit reached out and clutched the silver circlet on Elrond's head.  
  
"DON'T TOUCH THAT!" Elrond roared.  
  
The younger elf jumped back immediately and cowered with shaking hands over his face. "I'm sorry, your Excellency. I didn't mean to cause any harm. Just let me do something for you as a token of my great respect and allegiance."  
  
Elrond sighed. If he complied with Figwit then he'd leave him alone. "Get me…" The elf lord started but from there had no idea how to finish. There was nothing he wanted except his bed, and he didn't relish the idea of Figwit tucking him in like a child. After a minute, Elrond said the first thing that had come into his mind. "A margarita."  
  
A look of relief, then confusion spread across Figwit's face. "A… a margarita, sir?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The two stared at each other in silence for a moment.  
  
"Oh," cried Figwit. "Yes, yes, a margarita, of course. What a splendid idea!" Figwit clapped his hands happily. "I shall have your margarita to you before you can say Minas Tirith, Master." Figwit turned and rushed from the room. Closing the door behind him, Figwit skipped blissfully along the corridor until a thought struck him: how was he supposed to find a margarita if he didn't know what one was? "Oh dear," whispered Figwit. "Oh dear me, this is not good at all."  
  
Now what was he to do? Figwit mentally kicked himself. He should have known better by now than to promise his lord something unknown to him. He couldn't go back there and ask him what it was. That would be utterly humiliating. The poor elf was just about to sit down and cry, when down the hallway he spied his salvation. Glorfindel had just stepped out of the Hall of Fire.  
  
Figwit raced to Glorfindel and skidded to a stop at his heels. "Ah, Figwit," said Glorfindel and smiled down kindly at the elf. "How have you been, dear boy? And, my goodness, is everything all right?"  
  
Figwit held up a finger as he tried to catch his breath. "I've just come…" he gasped, "from… Lord Elrond's room."  
  
Glorfindel's eyes widened. "I was just about to check on him. He left the Hall earlier than usual this evening. Is he ok?"  
  
"He's fine, generally," replied Figwit. "Just tired. I insisted that he let me do something for him and he told me to get him…" Figwit stopped suddenly and looked cautiously around him, "…a margarita. You know that I would get him anything his heart desires, Glorfindel, but you see…", at this point, Figwit leaned in close to Glorfindel and his voice dropped to a whisper, "I don't know what a margarita is." Figwit stepped back and looked hopefully at Glorfindel.  
  
The other elf simply blinked and stared at his companion. "Margarita, eh?" Mused Glorfindel, then, much to Figwit's shock, he burst out laughing.  
  
"What?" Cried Figwit.  
  
"So, Lord Elrond has finally decided to join the living. God, it must be 3000, 4000 years since the last time. Oh!" Glorfindel clutched his sides and grinned wickedly. "He MUST be stressed in order to go long a time without having it and then suddenly call upon it again. Personally, I'm quite glad for him. It will be good for him. The Lord of Imaldris shall have his margarita."  
  
"But…" sputtered Figwit, "but what's a margarita?"  
  
"Oh dear boy, it doesn't surprise me that you don't know what it is," replied Glorfindel. "After all, you are but an elfling. You will learn more of such things as you grow older." Glorfindel patted Figwit on his shoulder. "Don't you worry a thing about it. I will take care of everything."  
  
With a swish of his robes, Glorfindel had vanished, leaving Figwit standing dumbfounded in the hallway.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
Meanwhile, Elrond leaned back in his chair and stared at the celing. He had sent Figwit almost 20 minutes ago. What was taking him so long? Elrond decided that he would give Figwit 5 more minutes and then turn in for bed. It was not like he wanted the drink anyway. He would just force it down, like so many other drinks in the past, and then drift off to a good night's sleep. Elrond hadn't been in his bed for at least two weeks and its silken sheets beckoned to him as he caught sight of them in his peripheral vision. His ears picked up the creak of his door opening and he immediately looked up. Instead of Figwit, he was greeted by Glorfindel.  
  
"Your margarita awaits." Glorfindel said with a little bow.  
  
"What happened to Figwit?" Questioned Elrond.  
  
Glorfindel snickered. "Poor little chap didn't know what it was. Can you imagine that?"  
  
"Anything's possible, I suppose." Elrond sighed. Glorfindel's back was against the door and he stared blankly at the elf lord. Elrond noticed that there Glorfindel's hands held nothing. "Where is it?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"My margarita?"  
  
"In here, Elrond?" Asked Glorfindel. The degree of shock in his voice made Elrond feel uneasy.  
  
Elrond looked around his room. "What's wrong with in here?"  
  
"Nothing, I suppose. I just thought this room was kind of a scared realm, not to be corrupted by such a thing."  
  
Elrond gaped at Glorfindel. Had he gone mad? It was only a margarita. "What's so horrible about it?"  
  
Glorfindel's eyes rose so high they met his hairline. "Well, while I do consider it a necessity of life, you must admit, Elrond, that it is not the most saintly of practices. But no matter, you're the lord of this land, not I, and what you say goes. I'll be back with your margarita in a moment." He gently closed the door.  
  
Not the most saintly of practices? Since when was having a drink a heinous crime? Elrond shook his head in disgust. This margarita business was becoming complicated and he wanted nothing to do with it anymore. He prayed that Glorfindel be quick about it.  
  
Presently the door opened, but the one touching the knob was neither Glorfindel nor Figwit. In fact it was not an elf at all. A woman of about 25 slithered into his room and shut the door softly behind her. She had long brown hair that flowed freely down her shoulders to her waist. She blinked heavily mascaraed eyelashes and her lips curled into a smile as she advanced on Elrond. Her long red robes cut low in the front and had a slit up the side that ran the entire length of her leg. "How did you get in here?" Elrond demanded.  
  
"Glorfindel let me in," the woman purred.  
  
"Why in the world would Glorfindel…"  
  
"Oh hush," cried the woman and gave Elrond a push in the chest. He fell back into his chair but was up in an instant.  
  
"I beg your pardon!" He huffed, "I asked for a margarita, now for the sake of Elbereth where is it?"  
  
"Lookin' right at ya, elfie." The woman said. "The name's Margarita. Hmm, I've never had an elf as one of my clients before. Tell me, is it true that elves lapse into Sindarian when they're having sex?" Margarita pursed her lips together innocently.  
  
Elrond's ears turned bright red and he pushed the woman roughly aside as he pulled open the door. "GLORFINDEL!" He bellowed, and the entire Homely House rang with his cry.  
  
  
  
You likee? I hope so. Wanna see more of Elrond and his… lady friend? (It won't get too sick, I promise) Just send me a review and your wish is granted. Tata for now. 


	2. ch 2

Disclaimer: Same as on the front.  
  
Glad to those of you who like this! There won't be any sex in this fic, but you guys need to tell me if you think I need to step it up to an R rating. Thanks.  
  
Ch-2  
  
Glorfindel appeared in less than a moment, huffing from his jog across the building and looking very concerned. "What is it Elrond?"  
  
Elrond's face was a deeped color than his scarlet robes and his eyebrows were drawn so tight that Glorfindel feared his head might explode. "What," he hissed through clenched teeth, "is THAT?"  
  
Margarita sat on Elrond's bed admiring herself in his full-length mirror. She adjusted her bra so that it pushed her breasts up higher and gave her a longer cleavage line. Looking back over her shoulder, Margarita beamed seductively at Elrond.  
  
"That's Margarita," said Glorfindel. "That's what you asked for."  
  
"That is NOT what I asked for!" growled Elrond.  
  
"Well, that's the only Margarita I know."  
  
"A Margarita is not a person, Glorfindel. It's an alcoholic beverage made with tequila and lime and served in a glass with salt around the edges."  
  
"Oh really?" Glorfindel looked shocked. "You don't say. I…" One murderous glance from Elrond caused Glorfindel to choke his words.  
  
"Pay her so she may be on her way." Elrond said curtly.  
  
"Oh come on, Elrond, she came all the way out here."  
  
"I wouldn't care if she came from across the sea, get her out of here!"  
  
Margarita frowned as she strained to hear the elf lords' conversation. Glorfindel gripped Elrond's robes and dragged him to the shadows behind his door. "Elrond," he said flatly, "how long has it been since Celebrian left?"  
  
A pained look flashed through Elrond's eyes. "I don't know." He replied quietly.  
  
"Don't give me that, Elrond," Glorfindel said. "You could tell me how long ago it was to the day."  
  
"So what if I can?" Barked Elrond. His departed wife was nothing of Glorfindel's concern.  
  
"It was, what, 1000, 2000 years ago?" Elrond nodded slowly. It was 1963 years, 5 months, and 3 days ago, but Glorfindel didn't need to know that. "Either way," continued Glorfindel, "it's been a long time since you… well you know…"  
  
Elrond's jaw dropped in disgust. "Glorfindel!" He cried, "Are you suggesting that I have some insatiable need for the pleasures of the flesh?"  
  
Glorfindel nervously darted his eyes back and forth. "Well…" Noticing the menacing way that Elrond's lip curled he quickly added, "but that's normal, Elrond. It's a perfectly normal need and desire."  
  
"Do you really believe that sex is something that one has to do, such as breathing?"  
  
Glorfindel smiled bemusedly. "At times I do believe it is. Especially when the individual in question is stressed out, such as you are. I think it will be good for you." He patted Elrond on the shoulder.  
  
"Wait, what?" Cried Elrond, "you want me to have sex with her?"  
  
Glorfindel blinked. "That's what she's here for, right?"  
  
"I can't do that?"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Celebrian."  
  
"She's long gone, remember?"  
  
"Yes, but…" Elrond pushed past Glorfindel into the center of the hallway. "She's still my wife, and I still love her. I couldn't do something like this to her."  
  
Glorfindel came behind Elrond and put his hands on his shoulders. "To be perfectly honest," he whispered in Elrond's ear, "she'll never know."  
  
"Yes she will," Elrond replied. "She'll know the moment we meet in the Havens. It won't be the same."  
  
Glorfindel sighed. "Well, maybe just talk to her or something. As lame as that sounds."  
  
"That sounds like a good idea." Elrond grinned and looked into his room. Margarita noticed him at once and beamed.  
  
"Go get her," said Glorfindel and shoved Elrond into his room, slamming the doors behind him.  
  
"You two done whining?" Margarita deadpanned.  
  
"Oh, well, yeah," stammered Elrond.  
  
"Good," she declared and proceeded to unbutton her dress.  
  
Elrond turned quickly and faced the door. "No please," he said, "I don't want to have sex with you."  
  
"Why not?" She replied icily, "because you can't bear the idea of having relations with a human?"  
  
"No, that's not it." Elrond felt his migraine returning and sunk down in his fireside chair. "It's just that I have a wife, and while she doesn't live here anymore, I still love her and cannot imagine sharing that with anyone but her."  
  
Margarita rose from the bed and sauntered to his chair. Her heels clicked the hard stone floor and sent a series of echoes around his chamber. "Well that's real sweet, but you've got me for the next 2 hours." She knelt down behind his chair and wrapped her arms around his chest. "Come on," she whispered, rubbing her nose against his cheek. "I don't bite."  
  
"You act like you WANT to have sex with a 6500-year-old!" Elrond exclaimed, leaping from his chair.  
  
Margarita sat on her heels and stared up at Elrond with big blue eyes. "I like to earn my money."  
  
"With me?"  
  
She shrugged. "You don't seem so bad. In fact, your embarrassment when I came in the room was kind of cute."  
  
Elrond's face brightened. "Really?" He asked.  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
There was a moment of silence and he stared into the fire. The flames swirled and he saw a young girl laughing, whipping her tidal wave of silver hair around her head. "I still can't have sex with you."  
  
Margarita rolled her eyes. "Jeez, you are lame." She replied with a smirk. "Well, I'm not sitting here doing nothing for the next two hours when I could be making money elsewhere, so at least let me give you a back rub or something. They say I give the best back rubs this side of Mirkwood."  
  
Elrond contemplated this for a moment, then decided that there was no harm in it. "If you really want to do something for me, then I guess so."  
  
"Good." Said Margarita. "Now take off your clothes."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard me, elfie, take 'em off."  
  
Elrond marched up to Margarita and looked her square in the face. Her eyes locked on his, unfrightened and steadfast. "First of all," he said sharply, "my name is Elrond Peredhil, not "elfie", now call me by it unless you want to be called whore. Second of all, I believe my clothes can stay on for this, thank you very much."  
  
"Actually," she replied, wrinkling her nose, "they can't. If you want to reap any benefit from this you need to be at least stripped to the waist."  
  
Elrond narrowed his eyes. "Fine," he grumbled. Elrond strolled to a chair by his window and, removing his robe, folded it and placed it softly on the chair. "I think you are enjoying this far too much." He called over his shoulder.  
  
"You're one of my better customers." Margarita replied with a smile. "Elves can't be any worse than men."  
  
Elrond lifted his gray tunic over his head and dumped it on top of his robe. He now stood bare-chested with only his gray leggings on. He removed the circlet from his head and placed it neatly on top of his pile of clothing. Whirling around, he held out his arms. "Happy now?"  
  
Margarita's mouth popped open as she scanned his body up and down. "Damn." She exclaimed, "There aren't many 25-year-old men with a set of muscles like that, let alone 6500-year-old fossils." She met his eyes and grinned. "I really need to change my clientel to elves only. If this is what the old elves look like I can't even imagine the young ones."  
  
"If you say so." He muttered. He was NOT a fossil.  
  
"Whatever." She pointed to the bed. "Lie stomach down." Margarita instructed.  
  
He walked slowly to the bed and hoisted himself upon it. He faced the window, folding his arms and placing his chin on them. "All right now what?" He called to Margarita. The room was silent except for the clicking of Margarita's heels. "Margarita…" he said again, "now…"  
  
At that moment, it felt as though the entire Homely House had fallen down as something landed on Elrond's back. He let out a roar of pain and then felt Margarita's hair tickle his bare back as she leaned down next to his ear. "Wasn't that fun?" she asked with a snicker.  
  
"No!" He growled. "What in the name of Elbereth was that for?"  
  
"Oh just 'cause I felt like doing it." Margarita replied cheerfully. She straddled him, and scooted down his body until she was sitting on his butt. "Now where shall I begin," she murmered to herself. "How about the shoulders?" Brushing his long hair off of his back, she clutched his skin with her hands, kneeding it as if it were dough, in a circular motion. After only a moment of this, Elrond's muscles began to relax and the stress of the day was pushed far into the back of his mind.  
  
"That does feel nice." He muttered.  
  
"See," Margarita replied, "I told you. After this, you'll be ready for a long night's sleep."  
  
She fell silent and Elrond closed his eyes. In his mind, red roses bloomed in Rivendell, flowers not seen in some 2000 years. They were her favorite and he couldn't bear to look at them after she had left for the sea. He did not say anything to the gardeners; the flowers seemed to die on their own. In fact, all the flowers in the city seemed to perish. Gradually, they were growing back to their original majesty and splendor, like in the days when there was happiness in Rivendell, but Elrond knew that roses would never again poke up through the bars of his porch.  
  
"Tell me about your wife."  
  
Elrond was stunned at Margarita's mind-reading capabilities. "Well," He paused for a moment to gather what he wanted to say. "When I first laid eyes on her, I thought, perhaps, that I was dreaming, because I had never seen anything so beautiful before. She had long silver hair that flowed down her back like a river." He chuckled to himself. "She liked to keep it tucked away in braids and buns, but I liked it long and would always pull out whatever style she was wearing. She got angry when I did that, but she wasn't the type who could stay angry for long. The funny thing about her was that she always thought that she wasn't very smart, but she was the wisest person I ever knew."  
  
"Even wiser than you?" Margarita cut in.  
  
"Half of what I know I learned from her." Elrond continued. "What surprised me the most was that she loved me. Me of all elves. I was not of her generation, she was so young. And yet, she loved me." He blinked and tried to wipe his eyes.  
  
"That's beautiful."  
  
"I know."  
  
Margarita stopped rubbing his shoulders and made little chopping motions on his back with her hands. Closing his eyes, he sunk into a deep meditative state. He was enjoying this after all.  
  
  
  
More to come. The plot takes a bit of a twist in the next chapter. 


	3. ch 3

Disclaimer: Same as before.  
  
Now we get somewhere. ;) Sorry for the upcoming excessive use of the word "Elbereth". It's supposed to be like saying "Oh Jesus." If anyone knows any other Elvish gods or Elvish swear words, feel free to pass them on. Thanks.  
  
Ch 3  
  
Across the Homely House, Legolas reclined on a couch just outside Elrond's study. He sipped his Pinot Grigio and closed his eyes. This was living. He had somehow managed to sneak out of the singing fest in the Hall of Fire and was greatly enjoying his down time and glass of wine. What he needed was something to take his mind away from Mordor and the task ahead of him. The idea of representing his race on a journey that would determine the future of Middle Earth scared him slightly. The wine cured him of much of that, if only for that evening. His bliss was suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps and a chuckle down the hall. Legolas opened his eyes to find Glorfindel heading towards him. "Good evening, Legolas," said Glorfindel with a smile. "How are you doing?" "Just fine," Legolas replied. "What are you so happy about?" Glorfindel giggled like a schoolgirl and plopped down on the couch next to Legolas. "If I tell you, you can't tell anyone." "I won't tell." Legolas eyed Glorfindel warily. He took a sip of his wine, then put the glass on the floor. Glorfindel looked over his shoulder to make sure that no one was in the hall but them. Then he leaned close to Legolas's ear. "Lord Elrond," he whispered, "has got a whore in his room." Legolas nearly sprayed his wine all over Glorfindel. He cupped his hand to his mouth and swallowed quickly. "You have to be kidding me, Glorfindel," he cried. Glorfindel's eyes danced. "I'm not," he replied through snickers. "He asked for a drink and I got him a whore." Legolas doubled over with laughter and slapped Glorfindel on the back. "You bastard!" He laughed and wiped his eyes. "I can't believe you got Lord Elrond a whore! Can't say the elf didn't need to be loosened up, though." "That's exactly what I thought," replied Glorfindel. "Did you see him at council today?" asked Legolas. "He looked like someone had shoved a rod up his ass." At this statement, both elves fell into fits of hysterics, and neither could speak for a few moments. "Sweet Elbereth," swore Legolas when speaking was once again possible for him. "Of all the elves in Middle Earth, Elrond is the one I'd least expect to get down with a hooker. I thought he was still pining over Celebrian." "Oh yeah," answered Glorfindel heartily. "He gave me some lame excuse that he wasn't going to have sex with her, but trust me, if I know this girl, she's banging him as we speak." "Damn. A human?" said Legolas. "Who is she?" "This girl who came with the men from Minas Tirith. She's quite famous out there. Perhaps you've heard of her? Margarita?" Suddenly, Legolas's smile faded and his face turned the color of sour milk. "Mar. Margarita?" he stammered. "Yeah," Glorfindel said. "Why? Have you banged her before?" "NO!" Legolas shouted quickly and leapt to his feet. "I. I have to go now." And with that he turned and raced down the hall.  
  
* * *  
  
Legolas's blond hair fell in his eyes and he pushed it away angrily. He made a quick left and, when he was sure that Glorfindel wasn't following him, stopped to catch his breath. What was she doing here? How could she do this to him? This could ruin everything. Legolas paced the hallway from wall to wall and ran his hands through his hair. She was in Elrond's room at that moment. And what if she started talking? And what if she mentioned.? Oh Elbereth! Legolas's mind raced and his breath caught in his chest. What was he going to do about this? She was going to tell him, Legolas was sure of it. His most dreaded secret would be revealed. Legolas Greenleaf, Elf- prince of Mirkwood, was dating a human. And not just any human: a prostitute. If she told Elrond, he wouldn't think a thing of it and would mention it to Glorfindel, who'd mention it to Aragorn and so on until it reached Thranduil, and then- Legolas clapped a hand to his forehead- and THEN his life would be over. If Legolas's father found out that he was seeing a human, he would lock him in Mirkwood and marry him off to some horrid, sheep-like maiden with no brain in her head at all. Legolas shuddered and hugged himself. What was he to do about this indeed? He couldn't just walk in there while the Lord of Rivendell was screwing his girlfriend. But how was he going to tell her not to say anything? I'll just have to get someone to go in there and tell her, Legolas thought. But who would be stupid enough to walk in on THAT? As if on cue, Legolas's eyes caught a bit of brown hair as its owner hopped along the far end of the hall. Legolas grinned. "Oh Figwit." he called. The figure stopped moving. "Oh hi Legolas," Figwit replied cheerfully. "How are you?" The two elves met in the middle of the hallway. "I'm doing just fine, Figwit," said Legolas. "I was wondering, my dear friend, if you could possibly do me a favor." "Sure," Figwit said with a nod. "What do you want me to do?" "Well." Legolas bent down and lowered his voice. "You know where Lord Elrond's room is, right?" "Yeah." "Good. Well, I need you to relay a message to someone in there." Figwit frowned. "But Lord Elrond seems upset. He needs rest." "No, no, the message is for someone else in there, not Elrond himself," said Legolas. "Just go in there and tell the lady not to mention. 'you-know-who'." Figwit cocked an eyebrow. "Who?" "Me, technically," replied Legolas, "but you can't mention my name, no matter what happens." "Why not?" questioned Figwit. "Don't worry about it. As far as you know, I don't exist. Just tell her exactly, 'an elf wants to let you know not to say anything about you-know- who'." Legolas nodded his head. "She'll know who you're talking about. I hope." He grinned. "So can you do that for me?" "I guess so." "Good," interrupted Legolas and, gripping Figwit's arm, dragged him to Elrond's room. Dumping him right outside the door, Legolas backed away slowly. "Now remember," he said, " 'an elf wants to let you know not to say anything about you-know-who.' Say exactly that and then leave." " 'An elf wants to let you know not to say anything about you-know-who,'" Figwit repeated. "Yes. Good. Thank you for doing this for me." Legolas settled himself in an armchair a few feet away from Elrond's door. "Oh, by the way," said Legolas as he crossed his legs, "they may be doing some. strange things in there. Just ignore it. If you can." Figwit's enormous eyes glowed like light bulbs. He gulped and stared at the doorknob. 


	4. ch 4

Disclaimer: Same as on the front.  
  
Ch-4  
  
Innocent to the happenings outside, Margarita had moved further down Elrond and was massaging his lower back. He, meanwhile, had slipped into a sleep-like state and was calmly dozing with his head on his arms. So I did get him to relax, thought Margarita with a smirk. It's really too bad that I have to wake him up. Without loosing the rhythm of her massage, she bent down to his left ear. "So what was this council today about?" she whispered. Her warm breath tickled his ear and stirred him slightly from his meditation. "One Ring," he murmered. "I see," she mused. "And what did you propose to do about it?" Elrond shifted his body to the right. "A fellowship of nine was chosen to take it to Mordor." Margarita smiled, surprised at how much she could get out of him while he was in this state. Perhaps she could be a bit more if. Converting one hand into a fist, she used it to knead Elrond's lower back. With her other hand, she reached up and lightly stroked the point of Elrond's ear. He instantly broke into a grin. "Stop doing that," he said. "Why?" "Because. are you sure I'm your first Elven client?" Warm sensations ran from his hairline to his toenails as his insides turned to jelly. He shuddered at how efficient her fingers were. "Who is to represent your race in this." she once again bent close to his ear, ".fellowship." She gasped the word in a way that made Elrond jump. "Legolas of Mirkwood." He replied breathlessly. If this incessant ear- playing didn't stop. "Ah, yes, I've heard of him," she said sweetly. "Isn't he. rather young and inexperienced, my Lord?" "No. Young, maybe, but he has much experience." Elrond gritted his teeth and groaned. "Can you stop doing that please?" Margarita grinned. One of the most powerful Elves in Middle Earth and she had turned him into a quivering ball of nothing. "Are you quite sure he's as good of an archer as he says he is?" she continued. "Yes. He's good." He reached out and tried to swat her hand away, but she pinned his arm down with surprising strength. "You don't want him to go," said Margarita sternly. "What?" "Take him OUT of the fellowship." At that moment a loud bang sounded behind her. She turned instantly to find the door wide open and a shell-shocked Figwit standing in the doorway. Figwit stared in horror at the sight before him and quickly shut his eyes. "Anelfwantstoletyouknownottosayanythingaboutyou-know-who," he cried, trembling. "What?" replied Margarita, turning her back so she could get a better look at him. Figwit took a deep breath to calm his thudding heart. "An elf wants to." "Wait. Come in and shut the door at least," Margarita said. Margarita's rhythmic massage had stopped, and Elrond was beginning to become fully awake once more. He heard the door to his chamber close with a click. "Now what do you want to say?" asked Margarita. "Who's here?" Elrond gruffly inquired. "An elf want to let you know not to say anything about you-know-who." "Which elf?" Margarita questioned. "Um." Figwit stared at his feet, "I can't tell you that." "Why not?" "Because I'm not supposed to." "Why not?" "Because."  
  
"Figwit, is that you?" cut in Elrond. Figwit gulped. "Yes, your Lordship. I. I.I'll only be in here a second longer." "Get off me," Elrond said to Margarita. "No. I'm not done yet," She whined in response. "I said get off!" "NO." Margarita turned back to Figwit. "So anyway, why." "CONFOUND IT WOMAN! GET YOUR SLEAZY ASS OFF OF ME!" Before it even occurred to her what was happening, Elrond threw her from his back with one mighty push. She flew screaming across the room and landed on Figwit, knocking him into the door. Elrond flipped over, jumped off the bed, and stalked across the room. Grabbing Margarita and pushing her roughly aside, he clutched Figwit by the collar and slammed him against the door. "Who sent you here?" he growled. Figwit's face drained of all color and his lip trembled. "I. I. I." he sputtered, unable to form anything coherent. Elrond tightened his grip on Figwit's neck. "Who. Sent. You." Figwit made a gagging noise. "Legolas," he rasped. Elrond promply dropped Figwit and he fell, coughing and sputtering, to the ground with a thud. The elf-lord pulled open the door. "LEGOLAS!" he bellowed. "For Valinor's sake, I'm right here." Legolas stood from his easy chair and shuffled to Elrond. I'm in for it now, he told himself. "What is the meaning of this?" questioned Elrond, his grey eyes glinting like steel. Legolas sighed. "My apologies, Lord Elrond. I merely sent Figwit to relay a message to the woman in your room." At this, Margarita popped her head in the doorway. A look of panic flashed through her eyes. "Oh," she cried. "Um, hi Legolas." Legolas shifted his gaze to the ground. "Hey. Margarita." Elrond looked from the Elf to the human and back again. "You two know each other?" "Well," replied Legolas, "you could say that." "You could say that?" Margarita cried incredulously. "Legolas Greenleaf, I'm only your." She was cut off by Legolas clapping a hand over her mouth. Legolas laughed nervously. "Well, you see, sir, Margarita and I are kind of, well. seeing each other." There was a sickening moment of silence. "Oh," Elrond answered at last with a raise of his eyebrows. "Well that explains quite a few things. Why don't you two come in and we have a little chat." Elrond moved aside, allowing Legolas to enter the room, then closed the door softly behind him. 


	5. ch 5

Disclaimer: Same as page 1.  
  
Chapter 5  
  
The door clicked into place as Figwit stood up, brushing the dust from his tunic. Legolas and Margarita stood next to each other a few paces in front of him, giving sideways glances of confusion to each other. Elrond, meanwhile, had strolled across his room and wrapped his tunic around his shoulders. The silence was deafening as he sauntered to his fireside chair and sat down. Legolas shifted uncomfortably under Elrond's iron gaze. "Perhaps you would like to tell me what this is all about," he said softly to Margarita. She cleared he throat and wrapped her arms around her body. "Well," she said, "I knew that Legolas was going to be coming to the council today, so I came with Boromir's party, just to see him. We met a long time ago in the White City. He was." She looked warily at Legolas, "one of my clients." Legolas turned bright red and looked at the ground. "That's quite alright," replied Elrond with a slight smile. "Continue." "I asked on of the Gondorians what had happened at the council, but he wouldn't tell me much, just that a Fellowship of nine had been picked to perform a dangerous task. I asked who they were and when he answered Legolas, I was shocked." Margarita turned to Legolas. "Now don't be angry, please," she said grasping his hand. "but when Glorfindel told me that Lord Elrond. required my services, I figured that it was a perfect time to." She stared into the fire. "Try and convince Elrond to take you out of the Fellowhip," she finished quickly. Legolas blinked. "What?" He said incredulously. "No way. NO WAY!" Margarita backed away from him. "Please, Legolas, I swear," she protested, "I only did it because I don't want you to get hurt or die or something." Legolas ran a hand through his hair and stared at his feet, not knowing whether to feel angry or touched. "I. I can't believe it." He stammered, then looked Margarita in the eye. "You must understand. this task. it's very important to the survival of Middle Earth. I must do this." Tears brimmed in Margarita's eyes but she held them back. "All right then. if you must. I'm sorry." Legolas wrapped his arms around Margarita and patted her back softly. Elrond, by this time, was sitting back in his chair with one eyebrow raised. "Now that was all very touching," he said, "but that's still no excuse for her coming in here and trying to brainwash me with a hypnotic massage." Legolas glanced down at Margarita. "You know how to do that?" She nodded. "Damn," muttered Legolas. Elrond stood and took a walk to his window. "Sir," said Legolas. Elrond turned to the couple, still embracing each other. "Could you please not say anything to my father about. us." Legolas clutched Margarita tighter. "I know he would never approve." The elf lord's memory flashed to a silver maiden with an unforgiving father. "I know the feeling," he muttered. "Don't worry," he said aloud, "your secret is safe with me." His eyes narrowed as he glared at the elf by the door. "Right Figwit?" Figwit had been gazing in wonder at the celing the whole time and snapped to attention at the sound of his name. "Oh. yes sir!" he replied, having no idea what he was agreeing too. "Good." Elrond crossed the room and stood before the couple. "Now I think I've had enough excitement for one night, so you two may be on your way." He turned to return to the window, when Margarita cleared her throat loudly behind him. "My money?" She said expectantly. Elrond laughed. "You have got to be kidding me! First you get me to reveal classified info and now you want me to pay you for it?" Margarita gaped at him. "You can't tell me that wasn't the best damn back rub you ever had!" Elrond grinned and stood in front of her. "It was. Thank you. Now get out before I decide to slip to Thranduil." "Just go," cried Legolas, and dragged Margarita from the room. Walking briskly to the door to shut it, Elrond stared down at Figwit leaning against it. He smiled sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. "Coffee, sir?" he asked nervously. In an instant, Figwit was flung from the room and the door slammed. Margarita and Legolas stood in the hallway just looking at each other. "I can't believe he wouldn't pay me!" Margarita whined, "Of all the injustices." Her eyes met Legolas's and she stopped. "I'll see you tomorrow." He said, and gave her a soft kiss. As she watched his retreating form, Margarita took a nervous step backwards. "Are you mad at me?" she called after him. He turned around and smiled, a grin that made her tingle from head to toe. I guess he's ok, she though as he disappeared around the corner. For the first time, she noticed that the corridor was frigid. She hugged herself. After spending an hour and a half with the Elf Lord she was getting no pay. Margarita was not the kind of gave away her services for free, and she was in desperate need of money too. A night wasted like this would set her back a few days. She needed another client and badly. A noise down the hall brought her from her thoughts. Figwit was whistling while he looked at the paintings on the walls, as though he'd never seen them before. A smile curled on Margarita's face as she had a devious idea. "Oh Figwit." she cooed seductively and strutted down the hall. 


End file.
